


Christmas Prompts Collection

by staranon



Category: Funhaus (Video Blogging RPF), Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Alternate Universe - Red Dead Redemption, Alternate Universe - Western, Fake AH Crew, Fake AH Posse, Finding Big Foot AU, Multi, Online Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 22:12:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17211788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staranon/pseuds/staranon
Summary: A collection of the prompts i filled for Christmas 2018





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> shadeofazmeinya asked: you know if you're opening prompts i have to send some! for all your amazing writing!! im super curious of red dead au! maybe some freewood or mavin or jeremwood (whichever you prefer) with some general cowboy shenanigans. maybe stealing some things, maybe killing some men, whatever gives u inspiration!

Gavin heard his approach before he saw him. The heavy set hoof steps of Ryan’s mount coming down the path. Gavin was set up primly within a tree. It was safer than the ground when he was needed to wait. Upon Ryan’s approach, Gavin jumped from the tree and landed solidly on his feet.

“So what do you got?” he asked.

Ryan pulled up on his reins and swung his right leg off the horse followed by the rest of him. “Summer home,” he said. “The family’s living in Saint Denis for now. They won’t be back for a while.”

“Saint Denis folk eh? Sounds like a good find.”

“Should give us something to work with to get out of these damn woods.”

They needed some money. Just a bit. Not too much to require following a coach and terrorizing some poor city folk. But just enough to get them out of coal country here and back out west. Further south perhaps into New Austin. Try to catch up with the posse after being forced to separate by a Pinkerton contingency catching them unawares. And hopefully this would be the one thing they needed to do.

They waited until nightfall, Gavin trying not to let his nerves get the best of him. Ryan remained vigilantly on guard the entire time. These hills were dangerous and they were only two men. They no longer had the safety in numbers with the posse, and Gavin was getting anxious. They’d hardly slept these past few days. Rotating ever four hours to stay on watch, stay vigilant, stay safe.

Gavin could see the toll on Ryan’s face. The dark circles beneath his eyes, the moments of time he would suddenly check out before Gavin said his name twice. He was exhausted, doing as much as he could to keep them both safe and fed, which was no easy feat for two outlaws on the run together. Gavin was surprised they hadn’t yet tried to kill each other with the amount of bickering they’d do. But now that they had something to fill their time and occupy their energy, they remained silent and watchful. And as soon as the night fell, Ryan was gathering up his gear and unhitching his horse from the tree. He hauled himself up onto the horse’s back and extended his hand down to Gavin. Grabbing high up on his forearm with Gavin doing the same, he was hauled up onto the powerful mount and situated behind him.

Another disadvantage to this life of theirs. Gavin had lost his horse after their mad dash and they needed a secondary mount to make their escape easier. Perhaps they’d be lucky enough to find a horse along the way.

The summer home was two floors, partially sunken into the ground with a lakefront view. Gavin could practically smell the luxury off of it. All the windows were darkened. There was no sign of a horse nearby. Clouds covered the sky, eliminating all possibility of help from the moon and it was much too dangerous to light a lantern.

“Did you scout the place out?” Gavin asked. It wasn’t too far off form the roads or the train tracks, so they had to do this quickly and quietly in case any passerbys had the bright idea of alerting the authorities to a night time burglary. Not that any authority figure would come by at this time of night, but they couldn’t afford any other setbacks. Not now.

“Entrance down below,” Ryan said. “Basement up. Out the front door.”

“Right. Got it.”

He slipped from Ryan’s horse and crept his way further down to the water’s edge. He’d make his way up to the house from there and that way he’d have clear view of the roads and anyone else who might be here.

With Ryan further back and out of the way, Gavin approached the house. He came up to the door and found it, predictably, locked. He withdrew a small and rather dull knife he used to jimmy open windows. He worked the blade in between the panes and swiped up until he caught the lock. After some jimmying the latch came free on the other side. He crawled in through the window and landed lightly on his feet. Michael always asked why he wore soft soled shoes. Considering their rough and tumble lifestyle, hard soled shoes were the likely choice, but Gavin was a thief and a thief required two things. 1) sticky fingers. 2) quiet feet.

He began to search through the drawers and cabinets with ease, following the stairs up to the next floor. He took few material valuables but not many. There’d only be a few chances to pawn them off on the way and they couldn’t be bogged down with much. He took mostly jewelry, pretty little trinkets that would fetch a good price once the right buyer came along.

He worked through the kitchen, the parlour, the sitting room, and the first bedroom. Then he was onto the parents’ bedroom, he assumed. A family this rich would likely have a bill fold squirreled away somewhere.

He entered the bedroom and only too late did he catch on to the footsteps behind him and the sound of a gun being cocked.

“You’re going to drop that bag of yours, thief,” a man said from behind him. Gavin didn’t dare move a muscle for fear of being shot.

“Easy there, lad,” he said. “Nothing to get spooked about.” He slowly lifted the strap of his bag up over his head and let it drop to the ground. He kept his hands fanned away from his body. Didn’t want to give the man any ideas.

“You’re trespassing on Hawkes’ property, boy. You know how they punish thieves in the old country?”

“I could give a guess.” Sweat beaded and rolled down his temple. Despite the years he’d spent in this profession, he would never get used to personal confrontations like this.

“They cut off hands. Get a brand hot in the fire to make sure none get caught unawares of what you really is.” He heard the man take two steps closer. “Now, I’m gonna tell you to get down and you’ll go. Hawkes won’t like a mess in the house.”

Gavin moved slowly, kept his hands visible, no sudden movements, and just as he was on his knees, fearing that this man would shoot him and leave him for dead, the front door gave a violent slam, kicked in from the outside. The man sputtered and then a deafening boom. Blood sprayed the room. The man fell back on the floor, dead, nearly on top of him. Blood and gore raining down upon him as Gavin trembled on the floor.

Standing in the door was the ghostly figure of Ryan. The so called Omen of Death down in Del Lobos territory. And now Gavin could see why. If he didn’t know Ryan would be watching over him, he’d think this was the ghastly figure of death come to take his life.

Ryan crossed the floor in big steps, reaching down and plucking Gavin up like he weighed nothing. “You hurt?” he asked, placing one gloved hand on Gavin’s face, wiping away the remains of the stranger from Gavin’s cheek. “I saw the horse. Caretaker I think. Hired by the Hawkes to look after the place.”

Ryan stepped away, taking the warmth with him. Gavin stumbled but caught himself. He heard Ryan shifting around in the bedside tables, rifling through the dead man’s pockets before picking up Gavin’s satchel and tucking him under his arm like a mother bird. “Come on. Let’s get from this place.”

He led Gavin outside and gathered the dead man’s horse. “Take it,” Ryan said. “We need to leave.”

Gavin nodded mutely and saddled up. They rode away from the summer house and back into the wild, this time heading back out west, following the quiet trails and staying off the main road. It would take some time for Gavin to find his voice after that night, after having a man that shot so closely in front of him.

It bewildered him some times. What Ryan was capable of. Such a well read and soft spoken man he could be at times. But also capable of great cruelty and great crimes. Gavin understood little of it, but he would never be prepared for when Ryan would do that. Gavin was simply a thief. What was he doing with the Omen?

Days later, they found themselves crossing over into New Austin. The money from the robbery had gotten them out of trouble and now they were on their way to catching up with the posse and returning to life as it should be.

“You ready?” Ryan asked him. They’d be heading into Del Lobos territory which would be a new type of danger all on its own, but a welcomed change none the less.

And Gavin looked at Ryan. Looked at this man bathed in light, appearing as if an angel. And he knew then that despite all he’d seen and all he’d been through, there was no other person who could make him feel as safe even in the midst of absolute danger.

‘More than ready, love,” he said and dug his heels into his mount’s side.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Shy Kovelyse(Adam/Elyse) leading up to them getting around to dating one another

Stumpy’s hissing at him something fierce from within the cat carrier. He’s been growling at everyone and everything passing by while Adam sits and waits in the vet’s office. Stumpy’s always been a grumpy cat. Adam can only assume he’s still bitter because he lost a chunk of his tail when he was still a kitten. Probably to a raccoon, but Adam will never know. What he knows now, though, is that Stumpy isn’t eating well. Probably has some sort of stomach virus and needs some medication to help flush it out. Either way, he didn’t expect his Saturday morning to turn out like this.

He leans down and looks in the cat carrier. Stumpy, just a large black cat that Adam couldn’t say no to when he first met him, stares back at him. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to rub off on you like that.”

The voice makes Adam startle.  He looks up and sees that a small, blonde woman has sat down across from him. There’s some crossbreed dog sitting at her feet with its head on her knees, looking up at her balefully.

He’s so caught off guard by her smile, something sweet and inviting that his tongue feels thick and it takes a moment for him to come up with something to say. “Just … the cat, he’s …”

“Oh, I’m just joshing ya!” she says. “I didn’t expect to see this place so busy this morning and now I’m just trying to fill the time by harassing the other people here I guess. I’m Elyse, by the way. And this loveable guy here is Benson.” She looks down at the dog and rubs his head fondly. His bushy tail wags across the ground. Then she looks up and she looks expecting and, oh, she wants Adam’s name. A normal human interaction. Exchanging of names.  _God._ Why can’t he get it together?

“Stumpy,” he says and then winces. “The cat. Stumpy is my cat. I’m Adam.”

But Elyse takes his stumbles in stride. “Why Stumpy?” she asks.

“Got half a tail.”

“Awww. The poor guy.”

“He doesn’t need it. He’s tough. Nine lives and all.”

“Still. I bet he’s still a softie on the inside.” And then she moves forward, gets down on her knees and looks into the carrier. And for once, Stumpy doesn’t hiss or growl. From what Adam can see, he actually cranes his neck out to sniff at Elyse before curling up into the miserable ball he has been since Adam stuffed him in the carrier. “He seems like a sweetheart. Prickly I bet.”

Adam nods along, doesn’t trust himself with any words because he’s pretty good with shooting himself in the foot. “He’s good,” he settles on as Elyse sits back with Benson.

She smiles at him, and Adam can’t help but look away. He’s never been great with people. Especially not on a first meeting like this. He gets too caught up in the way he looks, the way he sounds, if he’s doing anything right. What do they think about him? Is it negative? Positive? His social anxieties flare at the worst moments, but he does like Elyse despite his own internal issues. She makes interaction easy. She takes charge and Adam just has to follow her lead. And they’ve only known each other for a few moments.

“Adam Kovic? We can take you back now.”

“That’s, that’s me,” he says, standing quickly and taking the cat carrier with him.

“Nice talking to you, Adam Kovic!” Elyse says, waving her fingers a bit as he goes.

* * *

Adam is a cat person. Stumpy requires less attention than a dog and he’s relatively good on his own, coming to Adam when he least expects it to jump on his lap and take up all his attention. After he clears up from the stomach virus or whatever it was, he’s back to his regular, annoying self. Running down the halls when Adam’s trying to sleep. Yowling at him even though he’s just been fed. An all around nuisance that Adam adores.

Until one day while Adam leaves the patio door open of his second floor apartment room and one moment Stumpy’s there and the next—

“Stumpy?” Adam sets down his dinner plate. “You dumb cat.” He first searches through his room, just in case the cat’s nesting somewhere in his closet. Nothing. The apartment’s not all that big so where could he go? Then he remembers the open patio door. There’s nothing on the concrete padding and then Adam comes to conclude—

“Fuck!”

He races out of his apartment, only just remembering to grab his keys before racing down outside the building and looking out around the buildings and the small grassy patch that extends out from the building and down to the parking lot. It’s nighttime. Stumpy’s a black cat. This is not a good mix.

So Adam starts to panic a bit because he’s not good in stressful situations like these and this has  _everything_ to do with his cat and his cat is all he has and—

“Adam? Adam Kovic is that you?”

It’s Elyse. Elyse the woman from the vet who talked to Adam like it was second nature to her. Elyse who cut through Adam’s panic and—wait, are they neighbours?

“Elyse? What are you doing here?”

“I live in the next building there.” She points to it and it’s not that far off. Adam didn’t realize. His thoughts run off from him for a moment, and she catches on. “What are you doing out this late hour?”

“Huh? Oh. Um. My cat. He, um, jumped from the balcony I think? And now I’m looking for him ‘cause it’s like almost Halloween and some people can be real douchebags to black cats and—“ Okay, he’s rambling, he’s stuttering, he’s spiralling out of control, and sweet, small Elyse cuts through it like it’s nothing.

“Adam, hey, Adam. I can help you, okay? I doubt he’d go far and he knows where he gets fed, so let’s just take a walk around.”

He nods, breathes through the panic, and falls in step with Elyse. They walk up alongside of the edge of the building and make their rounds.

“Wh-what are you doing out?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest.

“Took Benson out for a walk,” she says. “And then I remembered I had to take out the trash and next thing I know I’m helping out you? How long have you been living here?”

“Like … two years?”

“No way! I’ve been living here for a year already. I can’t believe we’ve only just bumped into each other.”

He finds himself smiling a little. The panic and stress recedes and along the way they eventually find a grumpy ball of black fur.

Adam sinks to his knees. “Hey, buddy,” he says. “C’mere.” He extends his arms, and Stumpy jumps into them willingly with a little chirp. He stands and looks to Elyse. “Thank you,” he says and he means it. He’s just not sure what he’s thankful for. What part of all this.

“Hey, it’s no problem,” she says. “Us single pet parents have to stick together.” She sees him off to his building for the night and he manages to say goodbye. That night while he’s in bed with Stumpy settled firmly on his chest, he hopes that he’ll see Elyse again. He likes her.

* * *

He sees Elyse again. He’s out jogging one morning—helps burn off excess energy—when he catches sight of her rollerblading down the street with Benson on a leash. She catches sight of him and waves, stumbles a bit, and he dashes over to help steady her.

“Thank you!” she says, grabbing onto his arms. “Still getting used to the whole rollerblades thing, but Benson seems to like it. Don’t you, buddy?” Benson only wags his tail in response.

Adam shrugs and flexes his hands after pulling away. “Least I could do,” he says.

“So what do you like to do other than look for cats in the middle of the night?”

“Wh-why do you ask?” There’s the nerves again. He’s going to screw this up. He always does. It never works out—

“I was just thinking that we should have more in common than just taking care of our pets. What are you are? Sports guy? Movie guy?”

“More like … video games?”

“Oh, cool! What’s got your fancy?”

“Got the newest Smash.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nods, decides to take a chance. “Would you like to come over?”

Elyse smiles and nods and adds, “I’d love to,” in a soft and sweet tone.

“Is it okay if I bring Benson? He’s not good on his own.” She reaches down to stroke his head.

“Of course,” he says.

* * *

It’s been a long time since he’s had anyone over, and Adam enters a cleaning frenzy as soon as he gets home. “You need to be good,” he tell Stumpy after he shoves him from the couch so he can at least deep clean a little for cat fur. “And don’t attack the dog, okay?”

Stumpy only blinks at him before slinking down the hallway slowly.

Game night goes well in Adam’s opinion. He hasn’t been this social in years, and there’s no panic for once. No worrying if Elyse thinks of him negatively or if he’s doing anything that annoys her. None of that and it’s nice.

He’s not exactly sure what to call this thing between them, but he can only hope that it continues on down this path.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dont-mind-the-moths asked: Haven’t seen anything in the Red dead universe yet! So how about some battle buddies meeting/joining the rest of the posse?

The message came to them after a night in the saloon turned into a brawl. Jeremy and Ryan were meant to just be passing through, but a sour comment from one man sent Jeremy over the edge and tumbling out into the muddy streets where he could teach this man a lesson. Ryan had to drag him off the other man and they had to make a hasty retreat to their hotel room to get cleaned up and keep a low profile. The authorities did nothing. This town was hardly big enough to support a sheriff, but they were wanted men. Clearly their bounty posters hadn’t yet made it this far west yet.

“What did he say?” Ryan asked. He dipped a cloth in a shallow bowl of water and dabbed at the skin abrasions on his hands.

“Nothin’,” Jeremy said. He winced at the touch of the rough cloth and Ryan’s even rougher treatment. “Just flappin’ his gums.”

“You need to control yourself. We don’t need any more attention. Not after what happened in Vanhorn.”

“ _I know_ ,” Jeremy said. He didn’t need to be lectured like a child. What happened in Vanhorn was … regrettable. And entirely an accident. But when there was a man making lewd comments in Jeremy’s ear, calling him all manner of things he was not, insulting his integrity and it was a shitty scene on top of so many other shitty scenes that Jeremy couldn’t help but up and punch that man.

“You would’ve done the same,” he added and to that Ryan made no comment. Ryan would’ve done more than beat that man in the streets. And he knew it too.

There was a knock at the door, and the two jumped apart—Jeremy moving silently to stand against the way, hand at his hip, resting on his revolver; Ryan to the door with a finger at his lips. He rested his hand on the doorknob. “Yes?” he said.

“Letter for ya, sir,” a woman said. One of the few that worked in this establishment. “A man dropped it off for the desk and I was sent to deliver it.”

Chancing it, Ryan opened the door. Jeremy remained on standby. “What man?”

“Didn’t give his name, sir.”

Ryan took the letter and closed the door soon after. Jeremy let his posture drop and approached him. “What is it?” Ryan handed it to him and went back to cleaning up. Jeremy opened the note and read the scrawl.

_Strawberry. One week. Ask for Brandeen._

“You know any Brandeen?” Jeremy asked.

Ryan shrugged. “Can’t say I do.”

“What you think of this?”

Again he shrugged, leaving Jeremy to make his own decision, seeing as he was the only one who could read. They had only been in this town for an evening now, hadn’t had any conversations with nobody. Was someone watching them in the bar? Saw them come in, the pair of them, travel weary and worn and sitting off to the side with their liquor. Completely inconspicuous until some idiot couldn’t keep his mouth shut and pushed an already on edge Jeremy into jumping head first over a cliff.

“You think we should chance it?” he asked.

“Up to you,” Ryan said.

Meaning he didn’t trust himself to make a rational decision. Last time that happened, five people were dead and a fire racing down the streets of Vanhorn.

“Strawberry it is,” Jeremy decided. They had no other prospects and Pinkertons didn’t operate this subtly.

The next morning they left the town and made the long trip to Strawberry.

They’d been a pair for a long time now, making their names known as a fearsome pair of train robbers. From the east coast and further west into the untamed lands of the west. They led Pinkertons and bounty hunters on a dangerous journey that had most of them turning back and giving up. With Jeremy’s sharp eye and quick hand and Ryan’s all around skill and wit, they were certainly a fearsome pair. Until they robbed from the wrong man. Leviticus Cornwall. Oil and train magnet. They’d happened to rob a train he was on and with a string of large robberies on trains he owned, it could only be assumed he’d come after them. They just never expected to meet him in the flesh.

With a wealthy man after them and a veritable army of Pinkertons, west was their only option for escape. But with a high bounty on their heads and their funds running low—there was little to rob from in the untamed West—their only option was to either go their separate ways or find someone with as dubious morals as them. Perhaps this Brandeen was their shining light.

Separation was an option neither was willing to consider. They depended on each other far too much to ever go their separate ways. Jeremy could read, a skill not many had out this way. And while he was not fond of civilization, he could manage far better with people with Ryan by his side. Ryan, on the other hand, grew up feral. At least, that’s how he explained it. Grew up roughing it in the woods after his ma died. His pa nowhere to be found so he lived on his own in the woods until a chance encounter on the woods brought them together. They looked after each other. They were closer together than people could ever understand. Protective to the point of committing murder for one another. Match made in hell.

They rode into Strawberry one afternoon after an easy trip on the roads and through the back country. They hadn’t encountered bounty hunters in some time now and were enjoying the peace and quiet for once. It was nice not having to fear for their safety every moment of the day.

They hitched their horses up to the post office and headed inside to ask some questions as well as to see if bounty hunter posters of their likeness had been posted in the area.

“Brandeen you say?” the station clerk said. “Yeah, I heard of you. You might have luck looking up at the hotel just up the street.”

Ryan nodded and Jeremy said, “Thank you, sir.”

Ryan stuck close to Jeremy’s back. He was fidgety and flighty whenever they came across a town such as this. He had no taste for large settlements and preferred the open country. But their survival depended upon making a few acquaintances.

They entered the hotel as a pair. The hotel manager welcomed them into his fine establishment and fine it was. Too fine for Jeremy’s tastes however. He spoke with the man behind the desk and asked for a Brandeen.

“You gentlemen looking for me?”

They turned around and came face to face with a broad red headed woman.

“You Brandeen, ma’am?”

She shrugged. “Who’s to say? What brings you boys to Strawberry?”

“Received word that we were to meet a Brandeen here.” He felt Ryan bristle behind him, fingers twitching towards his revolver.

Then the woman smiled. “You’d like to follow me, then. Name’s Jack, by the way.”

Jeremy looked to Ryan, but Ryan remained impassive.

They followed Jack outside and gathered up their horses. They mounted up and followed her out of the town and into the tall woods. Far off the beaten path they came upon a small camp. Jack dismounted and crossed the area to where a man was lounging on a stack of crates, felt cap set on his face. She kicked the crates and the man startled badly.

“Gah, what in the—don’t you know it’s bad luck to wake a man when he’s sleepin’?” he said, looking up at Jack with her hands set firmly on her hips.

“Visitors,” she said, jerking her head back to where Jeremy and Ryan were still mounted and ready to ride if this turned out badly.

The man stood and fixed his cap. He had dark hair and a full beard. There were a few others of varying ages in the camp but they took little notice of the newcomers. The closer the man came, the more nervous Ryan became, tensing in his saddle, spooking his horse, and reaching for his gun. Jeremy reached out and squeezed his wrist tightly.

_Calm yourself._

“Look at you boys!” the man said, beaming up at them. “If I’d known the Scourges of Cornwall would come up into my camp, I would’ve threw a party.”

“You did know,” Jack said. “You just fell asleep.”

The man waved them off. “Name’s Geoff. This right here is our little family. Posse I should say.”

“What do you want then?” Jeremy said, cutting to the chase. Judging from the way many of them cleaned their weapons, he guessed that they were very much people of dubious morals.

“To extend an invitation into my  _family_ of sorts. I heard you done well on those trains. Cornwall’s a mean piece of work, but he’s good for shaking at the ankles a bit. That money don’t ever stop falling. We’re the posse of Fakers, good sirs. Faking it at the high life because everyone else is too dumb to tell the difference between a man of high standing and a man such as myself. Now. Why don’t you take a load off and join us by the fire for a night? Share some stories. Have some fun. See where this goes.”

Jeremy looked to Ryan and simply waited. Ryan’s impassivity would not be a good enough answer this time. And surprisingly, Ryan spoke up first. “What’s cooking?”

Geoff smiled. “Why don’t you come on down and find out?”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Prompt: if you designed a heist for our gta boys, how would it go?

On day Geoff got up one morning and said, “I’m going vacation. See you guys in—“ he shrugged, hummed, and added, “A month maybe? Yeah. I’ll send a postcard!” Then he picked up his carryon and walked out the door of the penthouse with his suitcase being wheeled behind him.

It had been a sudden, surprising, and unexpected event that they didn’t know how to respond at first. It had been a lazy day in the penthouse that morning, the crew gathered and sprawled out in various places around the room. And then their leader and kingpin Geoff Ramsey had got up and left. No explanation. No previous planning. Up and gone. After a quick look at his laptop, they’d realized he had purchased a one way ticket to Tahitit. A sudden and unexpected trip that they didn’t know how to react or comprehend what just occurred.

“Did he just … did he just leave?”

“Where’s he going?”

“You mean why is he going to Tahiti.”

“Well, what are we supposed to do now?”

So it came down to a discussion of what to do next.

“He obviously just needs a break.”

“Yeah, but we don’t even know when he’ll be back. So what are we going to do until then?”

As a group of capable and fully grown adults, they weren’t completely useless. But as it was, theyneeded a capable leader to do anything really. They needed a plant to be contrcutive rather than let their boredom get the better of them of them and become destructive because of it. So they came to the agreement that they needed to choose an interim leader of the crew until Geoff decided to grace them with his presence once more.

So Michael got the bright idea of the hat. “Everyone write down a name on a piece of paper and then throw it in the hat.”

“And then what?” Gavin asked.

“Whoever gets the most votes wins.”

“Yeah but what if we all write down one name? Then it’s all completely useless, isn’t it? I say we just vote Jack in.”

“Do you think Jack wants to be your babysitter?” Jack said from across the room. She looked positively bored with the entire situation and shirked off responsibility whenever she could.

“So hat. Paper.  _Now,_ ” Michael surmised, so everyone wrote down their name of who they thought would be the best leader for Geoff’s absence.

“Okay so first we got Trevor. Second, Trevor. Third, Trevor.” Michael grabbed the rest of the slips of paper and read out several more Trevors. To which Trevor performed a comical double take.

“What? Why me?”

“They all say Trevor,” Michael pointed out. “Which means you voted for yourself.”

“Yeah. As a joke! There’s no way I’m qualified to be the leader here.”

“You have a degree in aerospace engineering,” Ryan pointed out.

“Yeah. That I dropped out of.”

“You were in your fourth year! You dropped out at the end because you got caught up in an embezzling scheme! You basically have the degree.”

“Engineering doesn’t qualify me for this job.”

“You’ve  _literally_ been Geoff’s right hand man for years now,” Jeremy added. “If anyone can manage us, you can.”

“That doesn’t fill me with confidence here! Geoff left us for a reason. Maybe you guys are the reason.”

“Hey,” Ryan said. “I take offence to being a problem.”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

Regardless of Trevor’s complaints, he was strong armed into the position of crew leader and now expected to come up with some ideas of what they could do. It’d been some time since they’d pulled off a proper heist, so Trevor was thinking of something that involved some class. And after some basic internet research, he discovered that there was an exhibit of priceless royalty jewel collections and assets coming to the museum. Now  _that_ would be a hit.

And while he jumped into the logistics and planning of the heist, Trevor realized that he was basically doing the exact same work as before. Only this time he was the one explaining everything at the head of the table.

(Turns out upon further reflection, Geoff had been grooming Trevor for this position for a long time and only now decided to take advantage of Trevor’s skills and hop on a plane out of here. Trevor didn’t know what to think of this.)

The heist would require weeks of scouting and planning to ensure it would be pulled off successfully. Trevor had it all planned out. He placed people around according to their strengths. Who would be scouting and figuring out security rotations. Getting access to the security cameras and codes. Determining when the best night was to strike. How they planned on getting the diamonds out from under everyone’s noses.

They would schmooze it up with the guests and snatch up the diamonds by the dozen only to sell them on the black market. Copies were produced, so by the time the authorities would notice the theft, they’d have all the money and Trevor would be swimming in a bathtub full of cold hard cash.

“Why did you include that bit in the plans?”

Trevor looked back at his plans and saw that he had included the part where he’d fill up a bathtub and dive into the money.

“Because that’s what I deserve,” he said. “And I as on a roll when putting this together. Didn’t feel right just ending it where it is. So let’s go steal some diamonds!”

So they stole some diamonds. It was all around a good time. No one got hurt. No one got suspicious, and Trevor got to fulfill a childhood dream of rolling in cash weeks later after they’d managed to sell the diamonds.

He looked up when the bathroom door opened. It was Geoff, reasonably tanned and looking well rested.

“Trevor.”

“Geoffrey.”

He looked closely at Trevor’s set up. From the neck down, he was swimming in cash. “So I heard you became the leader.”

“Yep. Swimming in cash like a leader shoulder after a successful heist.”

“As God intended. You know what? I think we should just make you leader full time now. Worked out for everyone in the end.”

“I guess so?”

“Good job, Collins. I should take vacations more often. That way I don’t have to deal with any of you lot.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Prompt: A gta version of your favourite ah lets play.

Everyone knows Ryan has his …  _thing._ The mask and the face paint thing. His style, so to speak. Geoff never said anything when he first hired him and he’s not going to say anything now. Ryan’s got his thing and it clearly works for him and no one will ever say anything to dissuade him away from his entire look despite their experiences with it otherwise.

Ryan’s a good guy, don’t get them wrong, it’s just he has a particular personality quirk. It’s easy to pressure him into doing things. He’s good with weapons but surprisingly soft when it comes to three legged dogs. He can say thing that makes you question your trust in him, but then the next moment he does everything he can to make you feel better because you’re having an off day. Ryan is an enigma that makes no sense and keeps everyone on their toes.

But that doesn’t mean they don’t all have their own very unique experiences with him.

With Michael it’s when they’re in a slaughter house facility. Diamonds and other precious jewels are being smuggled in through the carcasses. The slaughter house and corresponding butcher shops are acting as a front for a smuggling side business and Geoff wants a cut of it. So Michael and Ryan have been sent out to the slaughterhouse and see what they could dig up.

They split up as soon as they’re on sight. Michael heads over to shake down the offices. He finds a ledger he thinks might be useful once they break the code and makes a copy of the files on the computer at hand. He doesn’t find any diamonds, but at least he has some leads and that should be good enough.

“Hey, Ryan,” he says, heading out to the back where the carcasses hung on hooks in refrigerated rooms. “I’ve got the stuff. Let’s go.”

“Yeah. One sec.”

His voice comes from further back in the warehouse, so Michael goes to follow it. See if there’s anything he can do to help. What he comes upon next is not what he was expecting or needed. At that time. Or ever really.

On the steps of a ladder, Ryan has built some sort of disturbing monument built out of the carcasses and materials in the slaughter house. He’s just now propping a pig’s head on top of it all to create something out of a nightmare.

“What are you  _doing_?” Michael asks. He’s in utter disbelief. He has no idea why Ryan decided to do this. Or why it’s even needed.

“Leaving behind a present,” Ryan says like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “What do you think?”

Honestly? Michael can’t think. “I have …  _zero_ ideas.”

“Yeah. That’s what I was going for. Speechlessness.”

And when he’s done, he jumps off the ladder, returns it to its previous spot. They leave the monstrosity sculpture there which Ryan fondly refers to as the Pig Man. Ryan is positively tickled pink of what he’s done and Michael can only shake his head.

“You’re weird,” he says on the ride back. “You know that?”

“I think I’ll call him Sir Oinkins.:””

“Oh. So it’s a him now. Great.”

Ryan’s weird, no doubt about it. But he’s mostly harmless. Like a cat that fancies itself a lion only it’s still a housecat. Essentially harmless to those closest to it.

Trevor’s experience with Ryan and his behaviours is a rather common one in the penthouse but not one that anyone gets used to by any means.

They’re all to head to some city gala with the city council and mayor of all people. All the well meaning people of the city that Geoff fancies himself a member of.  Geoff just want to  know if there’s any hot gossip he can pick up on. It’s Trevor’s first time entering a crowd of this caliber and he can’t wait to get his sticky fingers on some watches and jewelry and the like. He went out and got a tailored suit and everything for the night. He may be a bit too excited, getting ready in the bathroom some hours beforehand but no one can blame him. They all have their weird quirks.

The penthouse is largely empty. Jack is getting her makeup done and hair pinned up. She doesn’t get many opportunities to dress up so fine. Trevor’s wandering in between one of the spare bedrooms where he’s laid out his suit and the bathroom where he’ll style his hair and shave up if necessary.

He’s dressed in his slacks and a white undershirt for now, focusing on getting his hair gelled into place in front of the bathroom mirror. He looks down for none moment, looks up the next, and gives a cry of right. In the mirror behind him is what appears to be a Jason type murderer behind him. But when Trevor whirls to face his would be attacker, he realizes it’s actually Ryan. Ryan who smells of gunpowder and smoke. Ryan who has his face all painted up like he’s going to war. Or he’s coming back from the circus. Trevor never could tell where he got his inspiration from and quite frankly, he doesn’t want to know.

Ryan laughs a little, like a little school boy who’s prank was pulled off successfully. “Getting ready for the night?” he asks.

“Oh fuck you,” Trevor says, working on calming his racing heart.

“Are you done in here? I have to wash up and it usually takes a while when I look like this.”

“Just use the one in the master bedroom then.”

“I would, but I’ll probably freak out Jack and I don’t want to face her done when she’s focusing so closely on her makeup and hair. I will  _never_ be forgiven if something goes wrong because I spooked her.”

Trevor rolls his eyes. “Fine, you creepy bastard. I hope that paint is permanent.”

“No, such thing, Trevor.”

They don’t understand him all the time, per say. He’s certainly his own unique person who potentially gets off on being a freak. He’s absolutely terrifying to some people and in the next, it can actually be quite easy to spoke him in his own home. Decorations left up from a previous Halloween celebration. Ryan has the unfortunate incident of entering his darkened apartment one night, opening the door which disturbs a hanging paper skeleton which comes crashing down in front of an unsuspecting Ryan. He gives a cry of fright and falls back down hard on the ground. A step behind him is Jeremy. Who takes this all in stride but cannot comprehend what just happened in front of him. Ryan scrambles to his feet, hair in disarray as he looks at the offending paper decoration.

“What just  _happened_?” Jeremy says. “Ryan, are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, fine. It’s just … stupid paper thing. Startled me is all.”

“I’d say it did more than startle you, pal.”

Ryan gives him a look but shakes his head. “We don’t have time for this.” He rips down the skeleton and walks over it.

As terrifying as Ryan may be to others, he’s just as terrifying to himself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lackyducks asked: fh ot who tf knows anymore. you decide. met on an mmorpg au. go wild.

Tuesday and Thursday nights were ritual nights for Lawrence. He’d get off work at five, have dinner around six, and boot up his PC for seven. When he’d finish his work early, he had time to himself to get set up a bit earlier. Loading up World of Warcraft, checking out his stats, thinking about what they’d do that night. Was it time to grind and level up a bit? Or have some fun and put the hours into a quest. It was up to what the others wanted.

He had his headphones on when he heard someone else come online.

_deadpixel_

Adam.

“Hey, Adam,” he said.

There was some rustling on the other end. “Hey, Lawrence. You’re on early.”

“Thought it should be me this time to set up the party.” They usually took turns, their group. Making sure everything was good before everyone else came online.

Adam laughed lightly, cheerfully. Lawrence found himself smiling. “That’s kind of you. Do you have anything in mind for tonight?”

“Depends on what everyone else wants to do tonight. I could either way honestly.”

“Just like my sexuality,” Adam joked.

Lawrence laughed, a fluttering sort of feeling taking root in his stomach. “Mm. Did you hear about the update coming for No Man’s Sky? I hear it’s going to be really good.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. I’ve got a co-worker who hasn’t stopped bitching about the game since it came out. I’m going to be lectured to death next week.”

Another alert. Two players this time. The Willemses. The resident married couple of the group.

“Oh, look. If it isn’t our two resident love birds,” James teased.

Adam and Lawrence both scoffed. It was a pretty common joke in the rest of the group. The things between Adam and Lawrence. How they always had each other’s backs, always looked out for each other while in character. And then someone else would usually say—normally Alanah—“Geez, you two. Get a room.”

Soon after they were joined by Alanah, the resident Australian on the team, and Matt and Bruce, the other gaming couple. And then finally Omar a few minutes later. Finally, the team was assembled.

He’d been gaming with this crew of people for coming on two years now. While WOW was their first and go to game, they’d branched out into other stuff. Halo here and there if only a few of them could get together. A few other survival based games that Bruce suggested they try out like Ark: Survival or 7 Days to Die. Fortnite and PUBG were good when they just wanted to have some quick fun. They were a solid group, and Lawrence would consider these guys some of his closest friends. It was easy to talk to them, easier than some of his real life friends. Because in the game it was different. They had time to be themselves and then they had time to be someone completely different. That’s what Lawrence liked about it. There was logic and there were rules and jumping between necessary skill and basic comradeship that made games like these fun for Lawrence.

When playing something like WOW, they normally had their pairs that worked for them. Omar and Matt. Bruce and James. Alanah and Elyse. Adam and Lawrence. One could say it’d be expected that gaming so much together meant that they’d be closer together, right? That’s the only reason why Adam and Lawrence were so friendly with each other. Nothing too deep to look into.

“Hey, Lawrence, have you checked out the trailer for Red Dead 2?” Adam said at the end of their quest when they were out of character, enemies cleared, and purchasing things in game.

“You ask Lawrence about the Red Dead trailer and not me?” Alanah said. “Adam, I’m so betrayed right now.”

On the other end, Adam sputtered out a response. “I mean, I was just thinking—“

“You  _know_ how excited I am for that game, Adam.”

It was gentle ribbing on Alanah’s part. To be fair, she’d been looking forward to that game since the announcement came out years prior. But it did make Lawrence think. Adam always spoke to him first about developments in the gaming industry. Even though all of them worked—in one way or another—in gaming news and entertainment, even if Lawrence was always up to date on that stuff, Adam always wanted to tell him. Eager and excited to bring Lawrence some joy or some tidbit of good news. And it was always for Lawrence, something the others had picked up on but not the two of them. Not yet.

“Anyone going to E3 this year?” Omar asked. “And I’m totally not asking because I’m being sent there for work and just don’t want to be in a convention hall full of strangers for three days.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Elyse said. “And also. Work function. Mommy’s getting paid to play.”

“Daddy too,” James added. “Don’t forget about that.”

“What does that make the rest of us?” Bruce said. “You’re no doubt in bred children?”

“I think you’re technically old enough to be the grandfather,” Matt said.

The group laughed at Bruce’s indignant response.

“Does that mean Peake’s sleeping on the couch?” Adam asked.

“No,” Bruce said. “I could never. I  _luuv_ him.” He made kissing sounds over the microphone and that no doubt had Matt avoiding him as much as he could.

Lawrence found it interesting to be on the in to a few relationships here. James’s and Elyse’s common sense of humor. Matt’s gentle support for Bruce and Bruce’s overt sense of pride in Matt’s gamily abilities. And then there was the fact that Omar and Matt had been great friends for years already. And Alanah’s ability to just seamlessly riff off of any of them. It made Lawrence  _want._ It made him want something  _real._ Something tangible. He just didn’t know how to  _get it._ His in person social skills weren’t on par with his gaming skills.

“Lawrence?” Adam said.

“Yeah?”

“So what’s your answer?”

“Oh, uh.” He actually remembered that he was going to E3 for some interview and reporting work. He just couldn’t escape the fact that he was potentially going to be meeting some of these people face to face. “Yeah, yeah I am,” he said.

“Great,” Adam said. “Can’t wait to see you finally.”

“Yeah, you too.”

”Again,” Alanah said. “Always excited to see Lawrence. Never excited to see me. What the fuck.”

E3. Electronic Entertainment Expo. Where all the big names in video game entertainment came up and offered up what they had to the masses. Big day for anyone interested in gaming, so of course Lawrence would find himself at the convention hall ready and waiting for the interviews and soundbites to begin. He had to work, first of all, but as soon as he had the material he needed, he was free to wander the convention floor, test out the games, and talk to some interesting YouTube personalities.

The first day was busy. The group chat was still figuring out where everyone was, times where they could all get together, what hotel they were staying at, that Lawrence didn’t worry about bumping into any of them on the floor. He stuck by himself for the most part, preferred to be on his own. It wasn’t because he was fighting his nerves, anxious at the idea of meeting one of them.  _It wasn’t._ He just preferred his own company. It wasn’t because he had bad experiences in the past that warped his own ability to make friends and read people.

Nearing the end of the day, he caught up on the group chat. Plans to go to dinner at some nearby restaurant, and Lawrence … he wanted to go. He really did. He just didn’t think he was ready yet. He had two more nights in the hotel here. He’d … he’d go then. He’d get himself together and go then.

So he didn’t go. Not that first night. And when they asked where he was, that they could wait for him, he brushed them off. Making excuses that he had some work to finish up for the night so he’d have more free time the next day. What he wasn’t prepared for though was Adam’s personal messages.

_< <everything okay??>>_

<<yeah. why wouldn’t it be>>

_< <idk. Was just hoping to see you tonight>>_

<<well I’m free tomorrow?>>

_< <is that a question or a comment>>_

<<lol. I don’t know why I ended it like that. I’m totally free btw>>

_< <perfect! Because so am i. and I totally want to meet the guy who’s always rez-ing my ass>>_

<<you got it! Got any place in mind?>>

_< <I might. Keep yourself available Sonntag. I’m coming for you>>_

<<blush>>

_< <kiss>>_

So as far as Lawrence was aware, he was now going to meet Adam on his own at some bar a few blocks away from the convention. He didn’t know what to think about this and adamantly tried not to think about it. He’d get himself stuck in a loop and talk himself out of it somehow and he didn’t want to do that this time. Not when he was going to be meeting Adam in the flesh. Tonight.  Oh God.

He spent a considerable amount of time in front of the mirror getting dressed. He didn’t want anything as trivial as his appearance getting in the way of making this a good night, but it wouldn’t be the first time—or probably the last, his traitorous mind liked to remind him—that it’d happen. He just hoped Adam was as nice in person as he was online.

He came into the bar precisely ten minutes late. Ten minutes was a safe bet and that way he’d know if Adam planned on just ditching him.

<<I’m here. where are you>>

_< <the one guy sitting alone>>_

So he looked up and found the one table that seated only one person. He’d seen pictures of Adam. Hard not to after a virtual friendship of two years. But it was still nothing in comparison to the real. The pictures didn’t do justice to Adam’s broad frame. His hair looked thick, something Lawrence wanted to sink his fingers into. Round faced with a full beard, he was so very handsome. And so very much Lawrence’s type.

He approached the table. Adam looked up and smiled. He stood and smiled and oh his smile. It made him look so soft.

“Lawrence?” he said and Lawrence nodded. “Hey! It’s so good to see you. Fuck.” And he did something that surprised Lawrence. He hugged him. Wrapped his arms around him and held him close. Lawrence returned the embrace.

“It’s good to see you, too.”

“Come on. Take a seat.”

Adam looked utterly entranced, and it had Lawrence blushing like a school girl. He wasn’t used to being the object of someone’s desire like this. It was nice.

“I’m happy you could make it,” Adam said as the end of the night neared. “And I’m happy I could have you alone, too.”

“Fuck, the guys are going to have so much shit to say when they find out,” Lawrence said.

“Pretty sure they already know.” Then Adam pointed to the bar, and sure enough there was Bruce, Omar, and Matt.

“Ah, fuck.”

Adam smiled at him and set his hand down on top of Lawrence’s. “This okay?” he asked.

Lawrence nodded. “More than okay.”

“I’m glad you came out.”

“I am, too.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> adorablyfullmetal asked: Write a Funhaus GTAV blurb! Of them... stealing candy from the corner store... yes....

Setting: a corner gas station at the intersection of County Road 58 and Blue Line, outside of Los Santos in the state of San Adreas

Characters: the cast ensemble known as Fakehaus, a gang of six criminals that typically work the industrial sector of Los Santos

Scene: at two in the morning, we find our gang of criminals pulling into an Esso gas station on their way back from a successful hit; they pull up in two identical black SUVs; in the first car we have BRUCE GREENE, leader of the gang, MATT PEAKE, informant lead, and LAWRENCE SONNTAG, the blackhat hacker; in the second car we have JAMES and ELYSE WILLEMS, corresponding muscle and logistics planner, and ADAM KOVIC, resident sniper; as they pull up into the gas station, BRUCE and JAMES step out of the vehicles and—

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

_“Adam. Get up. We’re here.”_

Adam startles awake. He’s curled uncomfortably in the back seat of the car. He looks up blearily and catches Elyse’s silhouette in the window. At least he think it’s Elyse. His contacts have been in for too long. They’re drying out his eyes.

He grumbles and rolls onto his back. He takes a moment to stretch out before moving towards the door and dropping to the ground.

“Sleep well, baby boy?” Elyse asks, stretching up to ruffle his hair.

Adam jerks back on instinct and raises his arms above his head to stretch out his back, cramped from sleeping so long in the back seat. He presses the heel of his palm into his eyes.

“Come on,” Elyse says, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I already got your glasses out for you!”

Adam scoffs. “Thanks, _mom._ ”

“You’re welcome, dear.” She reaches into the car and finds his eye care kit. She grabs onto his shirt and pulls him along. “I’m taking Adam to the powder room.”

“Watch out for STDs,” James says. “That’s where they’ll get you.”

Adam blindly follows her around back the gas station as the others stretch their legs and fill up the gas tanks. She takes him to the public washrooms and he’s too bleary eyed and exhausted from an adrenaline crash to realize she’s dragging him into the women’s bathroom.

The lights are a harsh fluorescent glow against him. He sets his kit down on the sink counter. Elyse jumps up to sit on it as he first washes his hands and then opens his contact case.

“I can’t wait to be home,” he says. “Today was too long.”

Elyse smirks, digging her phone out from her back pocket. “”You hardly did anything. I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

“you try focusing on five other people through a small piece of glass then.”

The door opens and a pair of women dressed for the club, clearly on their way home, enter the room. They hesitate upon seeing Adam at the sinks, taking out a lens. Elyse doesn’t even look up from her phone to say, “Oh, he’s gay,” as if that excuses his presence here. The women aren’t perturbed enough and it’s two in the morning. Weird things happen that two in the morning, weirder than a man taking out his contact lens.

Adam gives her a side eye, to which she shrugs. “What? I’m just saying what’s true.”

“I’m not gay, though,” he says.

“You’re close enough.”

Once the contacts are out, he fishes out his eye drops and gets a few of them in just as the women come out from the stalls to wash their hands. He’s too tired to be phased. His usual shy demeanor taking a backseat. When they’re gone, Elyse takes out his glasses and pulls them out of their case. She pushes them onto his face and smooths back his hair. “Can you see me yet?” she asks.

He zips everything back up in his case. “Leave my hair alone.”

“I can’t. It’s so _fluffy._ ”

He groans and pulls away in favour of pulling up the hood of his sweater up over his head. “Let’s go.”

“Fine, you grumpy baby.” She jumps down lightly and tucks her hand onto his arm. They catch up with some of the others back at the gas pumps. Adam tosses his kit carelessly back into the car.

“Where’s Lawrence?” he asks.

“Went to pick something up in the store,” Bruce says.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Elyse says. “Adam, can you buy me some candy?”

“No, buy your own.”

“Is that how you speak to your _wife_?” James says.

“She’s _your_ wife.”

“Just buy her some candy, you cuck.”

There’s no heat behind what any of them say. This is just how they get when they’re all too tired to even celebrate a successful run. So Adam turns to walk to the convenient store with Elyse trailing behind him.

“What do you want?” Adam asks as they get into the aisles of the store, much too bright for Adam at this hour, but they’re not going to be here for long. He spots Lawrence near the chilled drinks section and then the bored looking cashier up at the front.

Elyse looks at the boxes of candies and chocolates and decides that this isn’t what she wants. She moves to the chip and cracker aisle, picks up a bag of dill pickle chips and opens it, starts eating right there in the aisle.

“You gotta pay for that,” the cashier says.

“One minute,” Adam says. He pulls down a can of Pringles and a few other bags of chips, knowing that most of them will enjoy something salty. They convene at the front with Lawrence, who’s already found his liquor of choice.

“Dill pickle?” Lawrence asks as he sees the bag in Elyse’s hands. “Seriously?”

“Can I go one day without you guys criticizing my eating habits?”

“You’re bizarre Canadian eating habits?” Lawrence says.

Adam throws down what he has before the cashier. The name tag says Jon.

“Well, what else am I supposed to eat?” Elyse says, setting down her chips so that Jon can scan it. “You American cucks don’t have ketchup chips here.”

Lawrence offers up his card to pay for everything, but the transaction doesn’t go through and as Jon explains, “Your card’s been declined.”

“What?” Lawrence says. “That’s not—“

“Declined,” he says again. “You got something else to pay with or what?”

Lawrence looks to Adam and Elyse and both shake their heads. “Neither of you? Seriously?”

“I was planning on just sleeping the whole way through,” Adam says.

“Yeah, and I haven’t bothered to open a bank account yet on the fact that I’ll probably be deported if I do,” Elyse says.

“Look,” Lawrence says to Jon. “This is all just a mistake. Why don’t you just forget you saw us and we’ll take care of all this for you.”

“What and just have this all taken out of my pay?” Jon says. “Forget it. If you can’t pay, then leave.”

“I’m not leaving without my chips,” Elyse says.

“Yeah, and I’m not leaving without my liquor,” Lawrence says. “So either give us the stuff or, you know, I’ll rob you?”

“Rob me?” Jon says, incredulous. “I’m a gas station clerk in Los Santos. What do you take me for?”

“Buddy, do you _not_ know who you’re dealing with?” Lawrence says.

Jon gives them all a once over. “Should I?” he asks.

“Do you not watch the news?”

“Who watches the news? Like any man in the 21st century, I get my news from passive aggressive tweets on Twitter.”

“Just give us the food, man.”

“Or what?” Jon says, who looks thoroughly bored with this conversation and not at all threatened by the three criminals in front of him. “You’ll shoot me? Because I’ve _never_ been threatened by a gun before. You know, considering the fact that I work as a gas station clerk.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Which is a pretty dangerous profession in this town.”

_“I get it.”_

“Mortality rates are positively _through the roof._ ”

Lawrence then smiles, the sort of smile that says he’s _this close_ to punching the clerk in the face if he doesn’t get what he wants. “Jon, look, I’m exhausted. But I’m also a pain in the ass when I don’t get my liquor when I want it. So. You have a choice. Let me walk out of here. Or I’m going to make a mess of your place here.”

And Jon, defiant as ever, doesn’t budge. “What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

Before it can go any further, the bell rings at the door. They look up and see Bruce striding in to pay for the gas. “What are you guys doing here?” he says, slapping his card down on the counter. “We need to leave.”

Lawrence huffs, grabs his bottle, and leaves.

“I assume you’ll be paying for them?” Jon asks.

“Uh, sure, I guess.” He looks to Adam and Elyse for an answer, but Elyse only picks up her bag of chips from the counter and munches away as Adam picks up the rest of it and heads out to the cars.

He tosses around a few bags to those who call out of them, but otherwise holes up with the rest of it in the back seat, making some sort of impromptu nest. James and Elyse settle into the front seat and put the car into gear.

“How you doing back there, Adam?” James asks.

Adam only grunts in response, eyes closed. It’s been a day and a half and he’s just glad it didn’t end in the unfortunate death of a gas station clerk. That’s one less thing he needs on his mind.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> schrionplays asked: For the upcoming Fic Christmas,could you possibly write a Battle buddies and Nice Dynamite Finding Bigfoot Fic?

They’re all a part of the same umbrella company. Head Hunters. A company managing in the supernatural, the cryptid, the angelic, and the demonic. Essentially, they fielded phone calls from well to do people (in the sense that they are well meaning and not well to do in the monetary sense) that called in to report something going on in the woods behind their house. 90% of the time it was a deer or a coyote. 10% of the time it was some teenagers going to get off at the make out point or whatever it is that horny teenagers do these days. Vape. They vape, right?

But regardless of all this and their work (which is similar in a way to X-files, but less murder and mystery and more mayhem and mistaken identity), they have never worked together. Jeremy is one of two. The commonly referred to as the Battle Buddies. Purely for the fact that they are known to handle the more difficult cases. There’s one memorable case with the chimera that comes to mind, but Jeremy tries at least to remain humble when talking to others at Head Hunters.

His partner is Ryan. Jack of all trades type of person. IT skills. Survival skills. And a vast knowledge of anything and everything they’ll ever come across. They work well together. And considering they often work in close quarters together for extended periods of time, well, it’s only _natural_ that they would also start dating, right? They work well together. They share a lot of common interests. They love and annoy each other in the best ways possible. Jeremy can’t even think about doing this without Ryan at his side.

One day they’re handed one of the company’s most difficult cases. Big Foot. The details are vague, but one thing’s clear: three young people have gone missing in a forest and it’s highly suspected that Big Foot may be the reason behind it. They went missing in a portion of the country that’s notorious for Big Foot sightings. But before they can head out, there’s just one thing.

“We’re teaming you up with Gavin Free and Michael Jones,” they’re told.

“What do you mean team up?” Jeremy asks. “We’re your best field team. We can handle ourselves.”

“With three missing and presumed dead people, it’s far too dangerous for one team to go out. The next best option is Michael and Gavin. So you can take it or I can find someone else to fill your role.”

Not willing to lose this case, they accept the terms. They’ll be heading out onto the field with Michael Jones and Gavin Free, aka Team Nice Dynamite.

They’re a team focused more on supernatural events. Michael’s strong will and determination makes it hard for anything to possess him in general. And Gavin is quite intuitive. He’s like Ryan in skills and wit, only slighter in build. Plus, as Jeremy has heard from down the grape vine, they have a good system of using Gavin as bait if the situation calls for it.

“Could be worse,” Ryan tells him.

Jeremy tries to think of how it could possibly be worse but then again there are other teams he’d never consider working with.

So they get their gear, they get the trailer, and they get one Big Foot proof cage. They’re to catch him alive for observation if they can manage it. They check off the list with Michael and Gavin in the garage before they’re getting in their separate vehicles and preparing to drive out into the sticks.

“Listen,” Ryan says, because he can tell Jeremy is tense at the prospect of having a month of time to spend with Ryan in the woods. It sounded like the premise of every erotica novel to man and Jeremy wanted in on that. Now, he has to share his living quarters with two other people. “It’s not going to be as bad as you think. We keep it professional. Make some jokes about the job together and catch Big Foot. And then we’re back home with all the rib eye steaks we can eat.”

“Yeah, but I wanted the super sexy fun time package with this trip though,” he says.

Ryan laughs lightly and takes one hand off the steering wheel and places it on Jeremy’s leg. “I promise we’ll have plenty of super sexy fun times after we clean up here, okay?”

“Fine.” It will have to do seeing as they’ll be living in a trailer with two other guys for a near month’s time. So super sexy fun times are certainly not in the realm of possibilities.

They make it to their location with enough light out to get the trailer in place, the cage set up, and check on all of their equipment. It’s easy to get into work mode and ignore everything else. They keep it professional for the first part of their day. Equipment checks, map checks, missing person checks. They work like a well-oiled machine.

Gavin and Michael aren’t so bad, Jeremy thinks. They’re both perfectly fine even if they both have their extremes. Gavin can get extremely flighty, spooks easily even though he’s always up to heading into danger. And then as always just three steps behind is Michael, shouting at him to not touch what he’s going to touch or to come back to safety if he’s headed towards a cliff, for example. But so far it’s working for Jeremy until they’re out in the forest putting up cameras and traps in the following days.

Michael stays behind to check equipment, and it’s the three of them putting up the cameras. They alternate between setting cameras on the ground and up in trees for a vantage point. With their last camera, Gavin is attempting to jump up into the tree with the camera on his back, but he can’t quite reach it. Then Ryan comes over as the gentleman he is and picks Gavin up around the waist. Gavin squawks and then giggles ( _giggles_ ) and steadies himself with a hand on Ryan’s broad shoulder.

“Go ahead, I got ya,” Ryan says.

“Thanks there, Ryan.” Gavin gets the camera in place and Ryan sets him back down on his feet.

“No problem.”

Jeremy doesn’t know why, but he feels a pit of jealousy in his stomach.

The first week of their hunt is relatively boring. They’re constantly checking cameras, waking each other up for nightly watches, resetting traps, and basically walking around in the forest in pairs when it’s time to go out. By now Ryan’s caught onto Jeremy’s jealousy and of course he rolls his eyes.

“There’s nothing you need to worry about,” he says. “Seriously. I’m just having a bit of fun. Gavin’s a great guy.”

Jeremy huffs, but he knows Ryan is right. He just can’t help the streak of jealousy that burns through him every time he sees Gavin skirting around Michael. But maybe that’s just how Gavin his. A tactile guy.

“I’m just more pissed that we haven’t found a single sighting of Big Foot yet,” he says. “We’ve been out here for two weeks and not even a single footprint.”

“Something’ll turn up,” Ryan says. “It always does and when it does—“ He stops in his tracks, Jeremy too. “Blood on the rock,” he says.

They follow the dried blood over the rocks and then come upon a grizzly sight. One of the missing campers. Dead and decayed. And far away something gives off a very loud cry, something that would no doubt shake the ground.

“Guess we’ve got a Big Foot to hunt now,” Jeremy says and Ryan nods, keeping his eyes on the trees before them.

Life gets a bit tense at their camp. With Big Foot’s presence confirmed, they dive head first into work mode. And for Jeremy usually that means being the Lone Wolf. With Ryan it’s not so bad because it’s how they work, but Michael gets going when Jeremy just _leaves_ and doesn’t tell them and doesn’t he know how dangerous it is out here?

“It’d be easier if you just trusted us,” Michael says.

“Trust you,” Jeremy says. “This isn’t about fucking trust. It’s about doing our jobs.”

“Yeah, and we got a monster on our hands that’s already killed three fucking people. I don’t need another person dead here.”

“You’re not the fucking boss here, Jones.”

Jeremy then leaves the trailer and goes marching out into the woods with his tranq gun. They plan on bringing Big Foot down with enough tranqs to nuke an elephant. He has on him a tracker he can stick the creature with. That way they can find its lair.

He walks out far from the base camp and doesn’t realize he forgot his radio after he stormed out. By the time he makes it to the nearby pond, it’ll be too late for him to return home before night falls.

“Shit.”

He turns back, figures he’s probably scared Ryan more than warranted. The sun has fallen and the forest grows dark quickly. He’s not equipped well enough for this. His ears are well trained to the sounds of the forest, and when everything goes quiet he begins to worry. He treads carefully on the fallen leaves and twigs. Then he steps down and something solid snaps in over his foot. He yells. It’s an old bear trap. It’s closed in over his boot. Thankfully his boot is thick to protect him, but the trap is too rusted and too strong for him to pry it off. He’s trapped. He has the tracker though. If he activates it, hopefully someone at base camp will realize where he is and come after him.

He keeps his gun near him, tries not to think of the pain racing up his leg with every heartbeat. There are heavy footsteps not far off from him now. He’s sitting duck for now. He hears the growling and the snarling, and out from the brush steps the monster.

Eight feet tall. Black fur. Human in appearance except for its size. Bizarrely glowing eyes that Jeremy doesn’t like the look of. He pulls up his gun and fires a shot. Loads. Fires again. It hardly does anything to the beast.

“Come on, you _fucker,_ ” he hisses.

It steps forward, big ground shaking, ground eating steps towards Jeremy who’s essentially the bait. And just before it can reach down and pluck Jeremy up like he weighs nothing comes several more gunshots from the trees. And when Big Foot is absolutely decked out in tranqs, the beast falls unconscious to the ground.

“Jeremy,” Ryan says, the concern in his voice clear. He drops to Jeremy’s side and shines a light on his foot. “Oh, you damn fool.” He says it fondly but clearly disappointed.

“Yeah, I know.” He takes a look around Ryan and sees Michael and Gavin surveying the fallen Big Foot. “Hey, you two are good shots, uh, sorry ‘bout running off like that.”

“It’s not biggie,” Gavin says. “Lord only know how many times Michael’s done that to me.”

It lightens Jeremy a little bit that he’s not the only one to pull these types of stunts. But he definitely could’ve used more caution.

Ryan works Jeremy’s leg out of the trap while Michael and Gavin go to get the cage and load Big Foot into it. Jeremy’s wound is a shallow one, but it’ll take time to heal and considering one of the teeth of the bear trap sunk into his insole. It’ll be a bitch to walk on for now, so Ryan has his arm slung over his shoulders and takes him back.

“Gavin’s the one who found you,” he says. “Knew you had the tracker on you, so as soon as you activated it, Michael led us out here.”

“Didn’t mean to run off like that, I just—“

“I know. You don’t need to explain. I know you better than you think I do.”

Upon their return to the base camp, Ryan sees tenderly to Jeremy’s foot; that he’s propped up in the mobile home while Gavin and Michael see to Big Foot.

The next morning, they pack up and leave the forest with the case of the missing campers solved and Big Foot no longer a threat to the people in the area. Overall, it’s been a good case.

Using the in car radio, Jeremy radios over to the other two and says drinks are on him. He gets two very enthusiastic replies.

“See?” Ryan tells him. “Was that so bad?”


End file.
